Embrace the Feeling
by Apocalyptic Mirage
Summary: Britt's falling for a girl she's never met IRL. Quinn's busy looking out for Britt and Sam. Sam is just not paying attention. These siblings seem destined to continually fail at love until they learn and teach others to just Embrace the Feeling.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story just keeps refusing to exist because this is the third time I had to re-write it, but I kept trying because this is something I want to write. Hopefully, it was worth the effort. Please understand my slip ups in the way of spelling and such. I am a human, and was using Wordpad. I don't think any further explanation is necessary.

The first chapter sets the stage in 3rd person, but the rest will rotate between 1st person narratives. I have a good idea where this will go, but this is a glee fiction and I have a special flexibility and compassion to cater to glee fans wants because let's face it, the show hasn't been doing us justice.

Lastly, I apologize for the long author's note; especially, if you read it all. I don't usually do these things, I promise.

(Revision: Dec. 30, 2012)

* * *

Badly subdued giggling from the upper bunk pried Quinn from this fantastic dream of being an only child, having her own room, and never ever having to share her bacon with anyone ever again. What a cruel reality she found when she opened her eyes to see a the glow of the communal laptop coming from her sister's bed where she was no doubt instant messaging with that online friend of hers, and her brother's slumbering form teetering off the foot of her bed with the empty and upturned popcorn bowl in his lap. Chewy was his makeshift pillow. The poor dog was being drooled upon like a hand-me-down stuffed toy.

The clock on the cable box told her it was an ungodly hour to be up, which made it a perfectly acceptable hour to scold her sister for being up and causing her be up. It was mostly because her sister was up, though. Of course it was.

"Brittany, do you know what time is it?" she demanded trying to raise her sleep-heavy voice to a point where it could be heard by the younger blonde, but hopefully not the parental units sleeping in the room down the hall.

" - Adventure Time?" muttered Sam being ripped from his sleep too. Chewy woke up just after, and he ran under the bed to hide from the noise. It was not surprising; their dog was a coward. What was surprising was that he fit under there. He and Sam had been growing at an alarming rate.

Brittany had this theory that their parents were slipping growth hormones in their food.

Quinn assured her that it was probably due to him picking up football last summer as his secondary attempt for scholarships. Quinn and Brittany had their cheerleading. All were applying for academic ones on top of their financial aide applications.

Them putting so much thought into their future was really making their parents proud; if not a little ashamed that they couldn't just afford to send them all. The kids were understanding, though. Quinn and the twins in less than two years, that would burn up any savings the poor Pierces ever tried to start. And now they had a German shepherd.

Sam had been average height and chubby for most of his life. It made him easy to pick out as the baby, even though he and Britt were twins and only four minutes apart. Brittany had most of her growing done early. She had always been the tallest up to Sam's last growth spurt. They left Quinn in the dust at 5'6".

"Samuel Evans Pierce, you have your own room, I believe..."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Another injustice. Stupid only boy.

"And, Brittany Susan Pierce, bed time."

They whined in twinly unison. Both hated when Quinn A) used their full names against them, and B) treated them like children. "I'm going, I'm going," Sam huffed as he lifted himself up only to slip on the blanket, roll off the entirely, and face-plant into the carpet. Frustration poured from his exaggerated groan.

"Five more minutes," Brittany pleaded, the pout evident in her tone. Seriously, the two had to start acting their age, or at least their height. Whatever.

...

_LatinaHBIC: Are they gone?_

_DuckyLuv: Sam's back in his room and Quinnie is beddy-byes _

_LatinaHBIC: Good, now I can have you all to myself ;)_

_DuckyLuv: Wouldn't you like that~_

_LatinaHBIC: I would LOVE that. It would be a dream come true -hearts-_

_DuckyLuv: Aw, you dream of me? _

_LatinaHBIC: Every night, babe_

Brittany could never contain the smile Santana gave her. It started months ago when she found her blog online. It was amazing. Santana was amazing - and she followed back! They bonded over mutual love for music, movies, and memes. They reblogged each other like crazy with complete disregard for mutual followers when they spam their dashes with untagged personal posts and replies. The haters could leave if they wanted. As far as Brittany was concerned, she would only care if a specific few unfollowed. At the top of that specified list was Santana.

Santana had a way with making Brittany feel... special. It wasn't just with her sweet, sweet words, either. Santana would listen to her problems, and cared. She knew how she fought with her siblings, but never really had it out with either of them. She knew about her cat Lord Tubbington, her theory about sharks being gay dolphins, and a bunch of other things which she had stopped talking about to anyone else because they simply didn't get it the same way Santana did.

Overall, Santana understood her more than anyone else. They had these little inside jokes, and could go on and on for hours. The two of them could not go a day without communicating with the other. She loved it, she loved her, and she couldn't stand it.

_DuckyLuv: I really wish we could meet, San :( _

She was falling in love with a girl who was miles and miles away.

_LatinaHBIC: Me too. _

_LatinaHBIC: You are so much better than any of these idiots here._

_DuckyLuv: Is it Rachel again?_

Santana had problems with this girl named Rachel Berry, or as Santana called her on her blog, the Ugly Dwarfling. The two could not get along for the life of them, even though they had most of their classes and Glee club together.

_LatinaHBIC: Ugh. She's a nightmare._

_DuckyLuv: I would hold your hand through that nightmare :)_

_LatinaHBIC: Are you sure? I may never let go..._

_DuckyLuv: Who said anything about letting go?_

_LatinaHBIC: Britt, if I could really have you, I would never let you go_

Brittany sighed. The smile waned bittersweetly. She sucked in her lips and bit down lightly. She really did not know what to do with these feelings anymore.

There was just no way to really be with Santana. No matter how close she felt to her, they were physically too far apart for a real relationship, and that thought alone with this all-too-real ache in her... It was like there was a hole inside of her heart where this girl was supposed to be, but couldn't possibly be. She considered talking to Quinn about it because Quinn was the only other person besides Santana who she would trust about this sort of thing, but she already knew what would be waiting there. Quinn would convince her to give up on it. The only problem there was that even if she tried, Brittany knew it would be pointless.

There was no way she could just get over Santana Lopez.

...

All in all, tonight was pretty normal for Sam.

He went to practice.

He came home right after.

He took an ice-cold shower.

He ate with the family.

He had Movie Marathon Night with his sisters.

He fell asleep in their room.

He was kicked out.

Lastly, though technically it was already morning, he was stumbling in the dark to his own room, which he only ever used to crash in.

Sam walked into the door before he got a grip on the knob, twisting it open, and falling unceremoniously onto the floor again. He should really stop doing that. He pulled himself off the floor and jumped into bed. Apparently, Chewy had followed him and tucked himself into Sam's side as the boy adjusted to find a good spot. He sighed contently when he found a sweet position.

Just another Friday for Sam.

He liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

Saturdays are glorious days that lack the mandate of waking early, even if I did usually wake up pretty early regardless. I'm always the first one up. Sam is second almost always. Brittany won't budge for another three hours, probably.

She hasn't slept like a normal person since she'd discovered the wonderful world of the internet. I only hope it isn't anything questionable. Questionable besides chatting up strangers, I guess, because I know she does that despite what she's been told.

She even – well, I think so anyway... She's fallen pretty hard for one of those online friends of hers.

Britt and I talk all the time, but she's pretty clamped about saying anything about it outright at the same time that she can't shut up about this Internet Girl.

I know her name, of course. _Santana, Santana, Santana_ – I'm just about _sick_ of her name – _Santana! _But it's much more fun to tease my little siblings. It's a perk. About the only perk.

The shower is all mine, and it would be all mine for about an hour simply because I could. Dad was long gone to his office job in the city, and mom was just about to zip off if her chattering into her cell meant anything.

I was just out of the room when mom comes walking from hers, the cell being stowed in her massive, cluttered purse hanging haphazardly off her shoulder.

"Quinn, dear..."

She adds the dear when she feels guilty about something, just to let you know.

Mom's securing the second half of her pair of earrings while garnering my attention. I loop the towel around my neck and stop halfway through the hall, turning.

Just confirming that unspoken guilt, there is an apologetic smile on her face waiting for me. I ruffle my hair and sigh.

"I'll be coming home late, and tonight is that meeting your dad has with the bosses, so you'll have to make dinner tonight, okay?"

"It's fine, mom," I answer.

She rushes a good-bye, but is sure to punctuate it with a _love you._

The shower gave me time to consider my food options. Afterward, having nowhere to go today, I put on some shorts and a t-shirt without real thought. I settled for towel-drying my hair, which was so much easier now that it was shorter.

Again because I had nowhere to go, I couldn't be bothered to comb my hair properly. I hung my towel on a rack behind the door, spinning to exit through it when I come about a second short of trampling over my brother's glasses. They were lying forgotten on the floor. It might have been caught under the door sometime between opening and closing because the earpieces were tangled abnormally.

They were wiry silver frames that have already lasted him three months, which is saying something considering all the terrible abuse they suffer because they're Sam's and Sam cannot keep a pair of glasses to save his life. He's a sweet (metaphorically) little boy, but gentle he is not. Not with these, anyway. He'll leave them just about anywhere, and when he holds them, his hands get incredibly Hulk-like and crush them like a Klondike wrapper without meaning to or even thinking about it.

He'll be looking for them when he gets up. I consider bringing it to his room, but I know he'll walk right past them to come looking here. It's a better idea to place them where I'm sure he'll check, which is on top of the television. That's two steps from the door. He'll make it.

The hall he has to cross, however, was probably a daunting thing to come in blind, but he did it last night, so...

Brittany's been sleeping through this all. I don't notice until just then because the angle I glance from has a view of the cable running up the corner of the bed post. She was still clutching the laptop in her bunk. I sighed.

I climbed up onto the first rung of the side ladder and peel the device from under her face. The screen lights up and, though it would be really easy to do otherwise, I ignore the chat she left open. I placed the laptop on the desk and finally make it out of the bedroom, realizing that I was really, really hungry. Mom better have fried the bacon before she left.

…

_Who left the sunlight on? _

I make a noise and flip over in bed. While half of my face recovers from being smothered against something that left an impression, I stare at the vastness of the blank ceiling. It's close enough so that I could graze my fingers over it and trace constellations in the bumps of the texture. _There's a heart, here's a penguin, here's a butterfly..._ It's hazy, but my vision comes into focus and I roll onto the edge and throw myself at the ground.

_Thump. _

Quinn now knows I'm out of bed, even if I'm not fully awake, which I am... or am not. Whichever it is.

My first instinct is to check the time, which turns out to be a little after 8. The second instinct is to check my messenger. To be honest, the first think I wanted to do was go online, but then I thought _what time is it_, which doesn't involve moving, so naturally I did it first.

It takes a minute of panicking to find the laptop, which has been moved back to the desk where I found it last night, where it "belongs" as Quinn says. It put itself to sleep, so I tap a key to wake it up. The chat is still open with the last lines I sent Santana, and a few she left after I must have fallen asleep.

_LatinaHBIC: You better sleep, you have practice tomorrow_

_DuckyLuv: You remembered! _

_LatinaHBIC: Of course, boo, you know ;)_

_DuckyLuv: Yeah you're madly in love with me, I forgot_

I didn't really think about it when I sent it; I just sent it. It was followed by a pause that panicked me at least a thousand times more than losing or breaking the laptop would.

_DuckyLuv: San?_

_DuckyLuv: I was just kidding, San_

_DuckyLuv: Hello?_

_LatinaHBIC: I know, B, just get some rest. Less than a week to showtime_

_DuckyLuv: Yeah, well I've got the routine down. I could do it in my sleep_

_LatinaHBIC: Show me, get to sleep._

_DuckyLuv: Gosh, if you didn't want to talk anymore, just say so~_

_LatinaHBIC: I don't._

I knew she was just saying that to get me to sleep, but I couldn't help but think about how I would handle that if it were true. I couldn't handle that. I also really didn't want to be one of_ those people _that become clingy and needy; especially to someone I wasn't even with! Not to mention the not having met, but I think we all have people we have never met that have a great impact on us. If you haven't, you're lying, or you just can't see it.

Anyway, it was already 5 in the morning at the time, and I did have practice at 12 like she'd remembered. I gave a final yawn, checking every tab for something that needed my attention. Finding nothing that couldn't wait until after practice, I looked to find that Santana hadn't said anything after that. I gave in and fell asleep exactly as I was, where I was.

_LatinaHBIC: Godd morning_

_LatinaHBIC: *Good morning, Britt-Britt ;)_

Still only half-awake, I smiled at her name and offline signal.

…

"I love the smell of banana in the morning! Chewy, go long!"

You probably didn't get that. I should explain that.

I wandered around my room getting dressed and wondered why I couldn't really see anything. That's when you should remember that you're basically blind and don't have your glasses, right? No. I remembered I didn't have glasses when I tried to adjust them and smacked myself in the face with my partially sleep-numb hand.

Chewy the loveable pup was waiting loyally by the door for us to go down for breakfast.

I figured that I must have left my glasses in the girls' room. The last I remember was taking them off halfway through the last movie so I could lay on my side.

I trudged over, and walked straight into their bedroom when I found the door was wide open. Both of them were gone. That's when I knew I had slept in, Britt was up and out of bed.

"Heya, Chewster, wanna help me find my glasses?" I ask, only half sure I that I don't expect a reply.

"Glasses? See-through human contraption?" I mutter on as I squint at the sheets of Quinn's bunk. I flip the blanket over. Nothing.

I turn and because I was squinting already, I could almost make out Chewy's doofy face making empathizing puppy expressions. His lower lip was out of alignment, looking like a lop-sided pout. One of his ears is trying to stand up already. His big brown eyes were shifting uncertainly.

"They're usually on my face, Chew..."

Nothing.

I was just about to give up when I spotted what looked like it may be a pair of glasses on the television.

"Huzzah!" I cry and lunge dramatically for it, grabbing it like it would run away, "My precious!"

I raise it above my head and consider what the hell kind of reference I was going for. Then, I realize I was smudging the lenses. My shirt took care of that mostly... mostly.

Chewy may not have been aware of it, but I challenged him to a race down the stairs. He beat me. I didn't see it, but he had already zipped ahead of me, and I could hear Quinn's shrieking, which was confirmation enough.

Quinn was trying to keep Chewster of the table without having to touch him with her hands that are too busy covering her plate. Brittany may be aware that Chewy has entered and began wreaking havoc because she was smile-laughing, but she was also glued to the laptop. That could mean anything. Most likely, her bestfriend was online. Not _best friend_, but _bestfriend_... I don't get it either.

The food spread included a bowl of fruit. That was hopeful of mom and dad, who also left bacon (I assume there was once more than two slices on that plate), sausage, biscuits, and eggs cooked both over-easy, and scrambled. I prefer the over-easy style with the crispy edges even though the edges aren't supposed to be crispy.

It was Brittany's glass of strawberry milk next to her half-eaten plate of food that reminded me of that Jimmy Neutron episode where Jimmy makes a time remote thing that starts with him making Cindy and Libby the perfect milkshakes.

"_I love the smell of banana in the morning! Chewy, go long!_" I modify the quote. That's when it hit me that we should've named him Goddard. Oh well.

I was playing in my fantasy of being quarterback. It's a big dream for a second-string sophomore, but

I was going to play quarterback for real one day. Maybe even college league.

My faked long throw convinces Chewy enough to freak and scamper after the phantom banana supposedly hurdling toward the front door.

"And that was?"

"Sheen, Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius."

I always have to explain myself to Quinn. I don't even know if she'd ever watched an episode of Jimmy Neutron. She definitely would not like Sheen. She was more like Cindy. In fact, Quinn was a lot like Cindy. She needs a Libby. None of her friends are cool enough to be Libby.

"Ew. That's gross, Sam," she remarks after I finish explaining what happens.

"Well, we don't have a time remote, so you don't have to worry about me making you a perfect milkshake," I reassure her.

By then, I've settled in and grabbed the plate that had all two strips of bacon that Quinn left to help myself to a bit of everything. I placed the banana by Brittany, who must not have been paying attention to anything that just happened because she took it.

"I'm going to shower and head out to the studio," she announced. She carried the laptop in one hand and tried to peel the banana in her other hand with her mouth.

"You don't think she'll take that thing in with her, do you?" I ask Quinn between bites of the best homemade biscuits in the entire world soaked with a mix of yolk and maple syrup that was out for no apparent reason... wait.

"You ate all the pancakes!" I whined.

Between a bite of her bacon, Quinn went wide-eyed at the accusation.

"I did not," she said defensively, but I knew when Quinn lied.

"Did so! Look! You have syrup on your plate!" I argued, pointing at the traces of syrup swipes below the small hill of bacon.

She looked guiltily away.

"Fine. There were pancakes. Now there are not," Quinn sighed.

I looked to her plate, and then Brittany's.

"Gross, Samuel!" she accused me for the second time that morning.

"We're twins!"

It was my turn to defend myself.

"It's a waste anyway! Our parents did not raise us to be wasters!"

My argument was so valid. Quinn's always telling us that.

"Get mad at Brittany. She's the one that left her dishes..."

Under my breathe, there was the reminder that they finished all the pancakes. All but the half left on Britt's plate that was now mine.

"Whatever," she complied, rolling her eyes, "I'll let you pick what's for dinner. What do you want?"

"You cooking?" Real question: mom and dad will be out?

"Yup."

I gave it some real thought before coming to a long sigh, a lengthened hum, and finally,

"Pizza."


End file.
